


Chef

by lizcltr



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Cute, Domestic, M/M, No Smut, Silly, at least I think it's kinda cute?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizcltr/pseuds/lizcltr
Summary: There might be a reason why Minho doesn't cook a lot.





	Chef

**Author's Note:**

> I was clearing out my documents and stumbled across a few fics from three or four years ago. I thought someone on here might find a bit of joy reading them, so I'll post them. Apparently I wrote this one to the prompt: "I'm 80% sure that's not supposed to be on fire." Do with that what you will. Thank you for reading!

Opening the front door and stepping inside from the cold, Kibum stops dead in his tracks. It smells. He’s not entirely sure how to verbalize his perception of the scent, but he is completely certain that this smell doesn’t fit into their home. It's almost pungent, a bit sour, smells like burning alcohol. It’s _wrong_.

"Minho?" he calls out and then notices the faint sound of his boyfriend talking, presumably on the phone in a room as far from the door as their bedroom. Still, the scent irritates Kibum and so he doesn’t pay any mind to Minho, who’s not answering, or to his shoes and coat which he’s not even taking off as he walks straight into the kitchen, the smell stemming from there.

He shrieks when she sees the pan on the stove, a small flame rising from its insides.

"Minho!" he yells in a slight surge of panic and goes to get some flour from a cupboard without a second thought, almost knocking over several containers and spilling the white powder everywhere except for on the pan and the offending situation at hand. " _Minho_!" 

The sense of panic inside his chest only rises the more the dust spreads and the flames thankfully die down, the uneasiness spreading within his body in the form of dread and the thought of coming home to a burning apartment, the fire brigade trying to salvage-

"What are you _doing_?" he hears his boyfriend exclaim in baffled confusion somewhere at the edge of Kibum’s conscious mind, Kibum being way too busy trying to smother the non-existing flames with the flour. "Kibum!"

Minho comes closer and grabs Kibum's hands, pulling him away from the stove and turning him around in order to be able to look at him. The widened eyes and pale face tell everything about Kibum's state of mind.

"Kibum, stop," Minho says sternly in order to reach through to the other. "Why are you throwing flour everywhere?"

"The pan was burning!" Kibum answers breathlessly after a beat of silence, as if in shock. "It was burning and what if the kitchen had caught fire, what if the house had burned down?"

"Nothing would have caught fire, Bummie," Minho tries to calm him down once he understands what frightened Kibum to such an extent. One of his hands leaves a shaking wrist and cups Kibum's face, a thumb stroking across the cheekbone.

"How can you say that," Kibum obviously tries to sound stern and scolding, fighting to regain a little of his composure. Especially now that nothing’s burning anymore. Minho is standing right in front of him. "I’m eighty percent sure that was not supposed to be on fire!"

"Well, you’re eighty percent wrong, then," Minho retorts while finally taking the pack of flour from his boyfriend’s hands, now that Kibum doesn’t seem to be completely dazed anymore. He still doesn’t dare to let go of his boyfriend’s arm completely.

"Wha- You _wanted_ to burn the house down?" Kibum looks like he’s ready to either punch Minho straight in the face or puke all over the areas now dusted with flour, his own hands grabbing Minho's arm. "You were _in here_ , Min, you would have-"

"Kibum," Minho interrupts, the chosen tone displaying exactly how ridiculous that assumption is while at the same time not wanting to add any more fuel to Kibum’s hysteria. "I don’t want to burn anything down."

As much as he tries to hide it, Kibum is at a loss with the entire situation. Is he supposed to laugh it off? Or get mad? Or maybe cry because he’s simply so relieved that nothing bad happened?

"I was trying to flambé some fruits," Minho explains at lenght and Kibum deadpans. "And then the phone rang and I turned off the stove because by then it was pretty much done anyways and only supposed to do its thing. The flame would have gone out by itself."

The stare Minho receives could probably kill a man who's not used to being on the receiving end of it.

"I’m sorry I left the room, but I was certain nothing would happen," Minho whispers softly, grabbing his boyfriend’s hands again and holding them gently against his chest, knowing that feeling his heartbeat usually has a calming effect on Kibum. He slowly realizes how strongly the situation has frightened Kibum. "I didn’t expect you to freak out like that. I mean, I didn't even expect you to come home at that point, but yeah."

For a moment, both of them are silent, Minho smiling softly in apology, Kibum giving him a hard stare that displays a mixture of shaken speechlessness and slight indignation.

"Also, you’re lucky, because flour is not the best method to extinguish a fire. If it hadn’t already been close to dying, it would have probably flared up right into your face." This time it’s Minho who sounds a little worried. "Do I really need to give you a lecture about how to put out kitchen fires?"

That whips Kibum right out of his mental lockdown.

"Give me a lecture? _You?_ " he starts in that obnoxious voice of his that only displays his state of mental disarray. "I don't even let it come to kitchen fires. You, however, don’t even know how to make toast without burning everything. Why do you _think_ I freaked out when I saw some unattended pan burning in our kitchen?!"

Minho smiles at the outburst, cupping the other’s face in his hands and shutting him up effectively with the action.

"That’s exactly why I tried it," he giggles, "What could possibly go wrong when I’m supposed to burn it in the first place?"

Kibum's face falls and he only stares, unbelieving, almost as if Minho had told him he’s pregnant. Or he’s running for president. Or he cooks food by setting it on fire.

"What could possibly go wrong," Kibum echoes quietly, his gaze not settling, his mind still in a confused haze. "What could possibly-"

He tugs his hands and face away from the other.

"You are worse than Taemin."

"But-" Minho doesn’t get to really speak before Kibum takes over again, waving his hands through the air, finding his stance again.

"He at least has accepted his fate and doesn’t even attempt to cook anymore," he declares, his tone suggesting for Minho to do the same. "A lot less dangerous and heart attack-inducing."

Now that is something Minho can’t argue against. As much as he’d want to. 


End file.
